Brand New Day
by silent-five
Summary: This is my version of what led to the unaired kiss from the promo pics for Further Instructions 3x03. Too bad it was unaired... but I'm not bitter.


_I think I'll change my ways  
so all your words get noticed  
Tomorrow's a brand new day._

TITLE :: Brand New Day  
AUTHOR :: Jessa the Fangirl  
PAIRING :: Charlie//Claire  
SPOILERS :: Right up to and including Further Instructions 3x03  
SUMMARY :: This is my version of what led to the unaired kiss from the promo pics for FI. Too bad it was unaired... but I'm not bitter.  
DEDICATION :: Dedicated to pacejunkie for requesting a happy ending!

- -- --- ---- --- -- -

Aaron slumbers peacefully a few feet away in his cradle as I squeeze the excess water out of one of the shirts I found in someone's suitcase. All the clothes in my travel bag were maternity clothes that, since having Aaron, I no longer have a use for. So, like many other surviors, I scavenged from the "practical clothes" pile that Kate set up soon after the crash. I found this lovely blue shirt in the pile that I loved. It turns out that it belonged to Libby. That was awkward. I won't be able to wear it anymore. Not since she's been killed...

I'll be glad when all my laundry is done. I like having clean laundry, although it doesn't stay clean for long, but doing it the old fashioned way is a royal pain in the ass. Sighing, I fling the last shirt over a string suspended between too poles of my shelter. I wipe my damp hands on my jeans and glance around. All my chores are done and I can finally sit an enjoy the amazing island weather. Maybe I'll write a journal entry.

It's only mid-afternoon and everyone in the camp is going about their business as if getting water from a trough made from a tarp in a normal part of life. I guess it is now. It's weird how normal living on the beach feels. Everything sort of fell into place. Everyone developed their own daily routine, their own little niche.

A smile erupts on my face when I catch a glimpse of a cheeky grin to my right. Charlie sidles up to my tent, peeking in timidly. His face seems relaxed but I can tell by his stance that he's still on guard around me. I know he's confused about where we stand emotionally. To be honest, I'm not even sure myself.

Last night I kissed him. It was all instinct but that doesn't mean I regret it. It was right; something we both needed. My lips were drawn so naturally to his, our hands touching each other. Combined with the crackling fire, the mood was almost too romantic. Almost. If you ask me, it was pretty damn perfect.

I return his smile to let him know he's welcome. I'm glad to see this shoulders fall into some semblence of loose. A tense atmosphere always makes me uncomfortable. With my encouragement, he enters, standing in the center of my small "home". The tarp I use for a roof casts a bluish tint over his face. He's quite taller than me. But then, so is everyone. 

"Have a seat," I say cheerfully, gesturing to my makeshift chair. I'm surprised at how happy I am to see him and I think he is as well. He sits slowly, unsure. I glance over at my son to make sure he's still sleeping soundly before leaning against one of the long wooden stakes that support my roof.

"How are you?" he asks me, sparking conversation to alleviate his doubt and the slight veil of awkwardness that has sudden swallowed us both.

"Good," I answer,"I finally got all my wash done."

He looks around at my damp clothes which are hanging off of basically every surface avaliable. I notice him blush and swiftly avert his eyes after they stray over my "unmentionables". I'm not embarassed. Everyone wears underwear, right? He clears his throat, which makes a breath that sounds oddly like a giggle escape me, and moves on.

"Like all that sand is ever going anywhere."

He knows that's one of my pet peeves. I hate the feeling of sand constantly against my skin. Aaron does too. He always gets cranky when his diapers get full of sand.

"Tell me about it," I allude bitterly. Just the experience of sense memory makes me shudder as I suddenly notice the sand that has made its way over the the soles of my sandals. Charlie chuckles as he watches me, obviously able to tell what I'm thinking.  
When, after a few seconds, I look up however, he isn't laughing anymore. His expression has become pensive and unfamiliarly serious. I wonder to myself what he's thinking.

Charlie lets go of a nervous breath before blurting out,"Claire, what are we doing?"

My head tilts to the side as I regard him, inquiry in my blue eyes.

"Doing?"

He tries to better explain himself, gesturing with his hands as he stumbles over the emotion in his words.

"Now. Here. Together."

More confusion on my part. What's he going on about? He must realize that I have no idea what he's trying to say and he makes a noise of frustration at the fact that he can't properly express his feelings.

"It's just, three days ago you wouldn't talk to me and last night you kissed me. I don't understand," he shifts in his seat,"What changed?"

A valid question; one that I'm still searching for the answers to. How did I find it in my heart to forgive him just like that? I mean, only eleven days ago, he stole my baby. He took Aaron from his crib, apparently with the intention of drowning him in the ocean. Not to mention the whole issue with drugs.

Still, in spite of his flaws, I think Charlie has the potential to be a good man. Even more importantly, he wants to be a good man. He wants to be a good man for me.

I know he regrets all the lies and the bad things he's done. I see how they haunt him. He has suffered. He is truely lost and it dawns on me that I want to help him find himself again. It's the least I can do since he's killed and died for me.

I used to have no idea how deeply I cared for Charlie. Shutting him out was a uniform impulse after Thomas. I figured eventually, like all other men in my life, Charlie would leave me too. What was the point of getting attached? Ignoring the pangs I felt for him was easier to swallow than the notion of enduring the pain of abandonment again.

I was subconciously baffled when Charlie kept his promises and stayed with me no matter what. Even when faced with death he wouldn't leave me alone. Still, after he sacrificed everything, I didn't want to believe there might be something real between us. It makes me feel like an idiot, considering it now. I was blind.

My eyes only opened when Libby and Ana were killed. You don't get many second chances on this island, dangerous and unpredictable as it is.. Why let them slip away?

Watching Hurley bury Libby was so hard. His obviously strong feelings for her were remarkable for the short time they had with one another. I realized in that moment, when Hurley's voice was breaking from tangible sorrow, that next week that could be me trying to speak at Charlie's funeral. Sure, it was a horrible thought but sadly it was also realistic.

I pondered what I'd say. Nothing I could muster up would do Charlie's spirit justice. His presence filled a large part of me, together or apart like we'd been for too long.

No, I couldn't let any of our time go to waste. I took his hand, squeezing it with a grip that seemed impossible for someone with as small fingers as I have. Feeling him squeeze back just as hard filled me with hope for the future. People would die, it was a harsh fact of life, but Charlie was going to do everything in his power to keep me safe, just like he'd been doing all along. The only difference was that the same now went for me. We would be okay as long as we took care of each other. 

All this knowledge flashes quickly through my mind as Charlie waits patiently for a cure to his confusion.

"I finally realized that I need you," I answer simply. Without further thought, I clear the space between us, bringing my face mere inches away from his. My hands travel up to clutch his face gently as I get lost in his stormy eyes. Something passes between us, an unspoken bond that I know somehow helps him better understand where I'm coming from.

Unable to hold off any longer, I bring his lips to mine in a lingering kiss. It's much more intimate than our first and my eyes flutter shut as I feel his calloused hand caress my arm.  
I never want this moment to end but unfortunately it does.

Our foreheads rest together after our lips lose contact and I can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Charlie appears pleasently surprised at my sentiment, emphasis on the pleasent.

After a slight hesitation he replies,"Love you too."

I can tell its something he's been holding back for some time. Deep down, I think I was holding back too.

THE END 


End file.
